Page 49 of The Rook
“No,” she whispered. “I’m the first female Hound. I could do it if I chose to.” Living as the king’s consort would not be an easy choice, but when had she ever taken the easy route? The question that bothered her the most waswhyhe’d offered her marriage. Tempest didn’t come from a highborn family, nor was she from one with money. Her reputation as a respectable female was nonexistent, thanks to living with men and being raised by them. Hell, her trousers and smart mouth had made more than one lady of the court swoon in shock.
He wants you because of the Hounds.
A warrior queen.
Her lips thinned. She may be young, but she wasn’t stupid. In the game of kings and jesters, she was considered a pawn.
You could be so much more.
Tempest looked at the palms of her hands. She’d have to be crafty, and, still, it boded well for her if she married Destin. There’d been rumors of how his previous wife died. She didn’t doubt for one second that the man could commit murder. If she accepted his offer, her life would never be safe.
It isn’t now.
From the moment she had been born, death had marked her. Life as a Hound was a gamble each time she exited the barracks. She sighed and wrapped her arms around her knees, pillowing her cheek on them.
You’ll have to bed the monster.
Her stomach rolled. The idea of his bloodstained hands running over her body made her sick.What’s more important? A bit of bed sport or the thousands dying because of his tyranny?
One lone tear squeezed out the corner of her eye. While she’d never imagined herself married, she hadn’t imagined her life like this.She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. Once sheleft this roof, everything would change. There would be no escaping the decision she made.
As queen, you will need allies.
The Hounds would be her greatest weapon. She was one of them. They wouldn’t forget that. And the Talagans… There were many of them she liked. Some of them she trusted—even Brine, who had wanted her dead in the beginning but had forged a respectful alliance with her through training. Was it so radical to believe that some of them might align themselves with her if she became queen? They were the allies Tempest needed. Ones who could move about and do her bidding beneath the king’s notice.
It was a risk, of course. A huge risk. It wasn’t just Tempest’s life on the line if she went through with this. She couldn’t stand idle while innocents suffered and died. If the Jester and Destin planned to use her, she’d let them, all the while seizing power for herself.
“Please, let me make wise decisions,” she murmured, her soft prayer swept away in the breeze. Gentle snowflakes began to drift from the sky, and she stood, her gaze drifting to the palace in the distance. “You started this, but I’ll finish it.”
Tempest enteredthe grand doors to the palace, feeling simultaneously numb and raw with nerves. She brushed the snow from her hair and cloak.
“My lady.” A female servant bobbed a quick curtsey.
“I’m here to see the king,” Tempest said.
“This way. He’s been expecting you.”
Ice filled her veins, and she squeezed her fingers into fists tobattle back the fear. He was just a man. One that she was going to manipulate to get what she wanted. They rounded a corner, and the servant came to an abrupt halt, as the man himself prowled down the corridor toward them. The servant bowed and back away.
Tempest’s heart hammered in her chest, but she lifted her chin. Fear didn’t freeze her—it sparked the fight in her.
King Destin looked at her questioningly. “Is something the matter, Tempest?”
“Yes. Yes, I accept your proposal. I will marry you,” Tempest said, the words tumbling out of her mouth, sounding nothing like herself.
It was done. She’d sealed her fate.
TWENTY-ONE
King Destin
“Ah, I can always rely on you for asatisfyingevening. Lady Grey.”
He took a long draught of fire whiskey and eyed the decanter with the remaining amber spirits glinting from the light in the fireplace. He reclined on his chair, stretching his toes toward the flames, and sighed contentedly. “Really, there’s nothing better than a few hours with a good woman to put me at ease.”
He glanced back at his bed, where a long-limbed beauty with disheveled hair smiled sleepily at him. Her hair was naturally blonde, but Destin had insisted on her dyeing it blue for the occasion. Whenever he ran his fingers through it, he’d imagined it belonged to Tempest, his future queen and bedmate. The image never failed to inspire passion. The fiery Hound was soon to be his.
“Anything to appease my king,” the woman said, shifting on the bed until she was sitting with her back against half a dozen silken pillows.